Liar Liar
by Bananawings72
Summary: canada will do anything to save his brother, even sacrifice himself. Cuba kidnapps Canada, who is disguised as America, and tortures him for information. But it is who canada shares a prison cell with who he should truly fear.. ?Xcanada & other situations
1. EW A PROLOGUE DEAL WITH IT

**WARNING**

Violent sexual themes

**DISCLAIMER**

I'm too poor to own anything.

A/N: WOAH SUDDEN INSPIRATION ATTACK! I just finished watching the movie _Knocked up_ for the second time, and once again I found my self almost in tears at the beautiful ending. –I'm sappy lol-. I'm really into those "slice of life" movies and manga's. ANYWAYS! In my state of emotional bliss, I decided to write a spewing fountain of rape 8D

ENJOY?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

America eyed his brother hard, trying to take in fully what he said. "You can't, I won't let you"- America decided gruffly, putting on his coat. Time was running out.

"Yes and you will!" Canada interjected, putting a firm hand on his brother's arm. "You and I both know you can't be caught. The technology you're developing is too vital to this war. We're losing America… and you're our last chance." A pained expression passed America's face. He ran his palm over his forehead and through his thick locks of blond hair, covering a furrowed brow. "I don't have time for this…" he muttered.

"Listen brother," Canada pleaded "The enemy soldiers have already tracked you, and are coming. You won't make it out safe… you know that. You need to relocate the base and meet up with UK. I can help! Let me be a distraction. You aren't going to find anyone else who looks as similar as you. I'm trained for this. Now… there's just enough time to switch clothes,"-

"You might die!" America exclaimed.

"I'll be fine. You're too valuable to kill after all."

America was frantic. In essence it was the perfect plan.. but .. it was his brother.. "I can't"-

"You don't have a choice." Canada had already begun stripping America of his clothes. America's eyes began burning as he stopped Canada, and continued to undress himself, motioning for Canada to follow suit.

"Brother.." America said softly, "I promise I'll get you back."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Alfred slipped through the low venting system unable to give his beloved brother a goodbye glance.

As crazed pounding and voices demanded entrance from the office door, Canada sat calmly on America's desk and inhaled deeply. _My last breathe of freedom_ he thought before the door ripped from its hinges, revealing the nose of several guns.

"AMERICA!" yelled a gruff voice "YOU DIE HERE!!"

-bang-

Matthew didn't feel the warm blood trickle from his head, as his body fell almost slowly from the desk top.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

drip..

drip..

drip…

_It's hot…_

_*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*_

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

AN: meh, prologue is a prologue. I may as well tell you now, the entire point of this story is to be as mean to Canada as I possibly can :D

EVERYONE'S FAVORITE PASS TIME 3


	2. one done fun sun run

**WARNING**

Violent sexual themes

**DISCLAIMER**

I'm too poor to own anything

A/N: holy pepperoni. I love the response I got from the first chapter, so I will definitely make the commitment to finish this story quickly. GEEZE. LOOK HOW GOOD I AM TO YOU.

Side note: my chapters get longer

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The only thoughts going through Canada's head were the heat, and why there was sandpaper in his mouth. It took him a moment to realize he was dehydrated.

Trying his best to salivate, he carefully began moving small joints. His whole body seemed to groan along with him, as a chain of ache made its way from his back to his head, where it turned to a headache. A bad headache.

_I'm alive…_

Nothing else mattered at the moment. Ignoring all pain, Canada rolled onto his stomach, and lifted his head.

"Bad idea.." He moaned, as blood rushed from his head, and he collapsed his forehead in a hand.

He felt something sticky covering his face, and when he opened his eyes to observe his hand, he could barely see the outline of it in front of him.

"…where..."

It was too painful to talk. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was being struck on the head, so he must be a prisoner.

_Well..._ Canada thought, _I suppose America's escape worked then... yeah... I wouldn't still be alive if they knew I was an imposter._

He took in his surroundings as he pulled himself to a sitting position and blinked the drowsiness from his eyes.

_A cell. Faded stone. Damp… hot…dark…_

He dragged himself to the wall, and sat against it for support, trying to ease his headache. He concentrated on his breathing patterns, calming his heart rate. There was nothing he could do now but produce false information for when he was interrogated and keep up his disguise.

As the ringing in his head died down, Matthew let the darkness of the room comfort him. His breathing was steady and rhythmic, but he wasn't sure every breath was his own.

Did another prisoner share this room with him?

Despite the heat, chills crept up threw Matthew's body.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hours had passed and Canada was sure he was on the brink of dieing. He needed water. He could no longer feel his legs, and the pulsing of his headache was making him nauseous.

Crick-BANG

Matthew didn't respond to the breaking silence. There had been times he'd heard shouting and stomping from outside his walls, even a shuffle from a rat in the corner of his room, but for the most part, silence. They must have forgotten about him…

"American!"

Nothing.

"AMERICAN."

At first Matthew didn't realize he was being addressed. "Y..yes.." he croaked. But he was sure his voice came out a groan.

"Up."

Matthew didn't move. He figured the thick wood door to his cell had been opened and someone was looking down on him. He blinked his eyes open to see a solid figure towering over his small frame. He could see the glint of a smirk on the dark face.

"Heh… Are you dead already?" The voice was cruel but familiar. If Canada could just place that accent…

"I said UP!!!" The man spat at the ground in front of Canada. His voice was fearsome enough that Matthew would have jumped to his feet if he could, but he just didn't have the strength. Two large hands hooked roughly under Canada's arms and hoisted him to his feet, where he stumbled against the stone wall.

The man sighed. "Are all Americans this pathetic?" He sneered.

Canada didn't answer.

The burly man grabbed the slim boy by his elbow and twisted it in a painful direction, urging him out the door. Canada bit his lip to stifle a hiss of pain.

A hint of a chuckle lingered from the darkness Canada left behind.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Ha! Disgusting! Americans have no etiquette or discipline! Can't even sit on a chair!" The man roared with laughter after pushing Canada towards a chair and watching him trip over it. With the little strength he had left, Canada gripped the seat of the chair and pulled him self up to his knees.

"Here." The man kicked a container of water towards Canada, which sloshed heavy drops on the floor. Without even caring whether it was poisoned, Canada drained the container, water spilling from the sides of his mouth and rolling down his chin.

They were in a brighter, old fashioned room. A window was open revealing island vegetation and letting in hot humid air. They had gone up a set of stairs and down a short hallway. Matthew figured he was being kept in the cellar of a house. He looked out the window, not wanting to meet the mocking eyes of his interrogator.

_This yellow landscape... It couldn't be-_

Matthew turned his head to the dark skinned man,

_Cuba._

Matthew's heart skipped a beat.

"Old friend-"He began.

"Friend? Oh little man, you are delusional." Cuba threw back his head and laughed. "No sweet talking from you."

Canada's eyes burned. His last chance, gone.

_No, no! Not Cuba! Not my dear friend…now my enemy…_

Canada and Cuba had supported each other growing up. They didn't meet often, but when life became too stressful, they could count on each other for a relaxing vacation.

The weekends they spent fishing together…

Was Cuba their enemy? Come to think of it, America never mentioned who was chasing him. _Wait… did America know it was Cuba? _

This was too much to bear. Canada was at the mercy of his best friend, and he was mistaking him for America.

The one he hated the most.

Canada knew he would be free if he revealed his identity, but that would mean risking his brother. An impossible sacrifice. And he was sure Cuba wouldn't let him go free. Rather, he would force Canada to join his side. To fight his own family. This was war after all.

The Cuban moved in on Canada.

"Ah, little American. How white your skin is…" Cuba grabbed Canada's chin, forcing their eyes to meet. "Maybe I should enjoy it before it gets all stained…"

Cuba smiled a sharp toothed grin. His black eyes seemed to shine with excitement.

"Do you feel like crying tonight?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Canada bit his lip so nothing more than a hiss would escape, and clenched his eyes shut to prevent tears from forming.

He lay pathetically on the floor, his brothers jacket removed, torn up in a nearby corner, and his shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows. Red circular burn marks danced their way up his forearms.

Cuba sighed and removed the cigar tip from Canada's wrist, bringing it to his lips and puffed deeply.

"You Americans are a masochistic bunch. You don't even scream. No fun at all."

The truth was, Canada had lost most feeling in his arms and didn't possess the strength to scream.

"Maybe you enjoy this?! Then, maybe what you really hate… is more intimate pain."

A new interest sparked into Cuba's eyes.

"Oh America, I'll ask you one once more. What is Red rabbit? Where is it?! WHO IS IT?!" Cuba gripped Canada's collar bone with bruising force.

Red Rabbit. America's secret weapon. He always referred to it as technology in front of Canada, but that might have been just another code word. _I wonder how he found out_, Canada thought. _This is a secret between UK and USA… I shouldn't even know about it… _

Canada recalled the day America showed up at his door step bloodied after narrowly escaping an attack, outnumbered 8 to 1. Thinking he was on the brink of death, he told Canada he had to find UK, no matter the cost, and complete Red Rabbit. Instead of dieing, he fell unconscious for 3 days, and Canada nursed him back to health. When America finally awoke, he seemed upset that he let out such a secret… but in the end, Matthew convinced Alfred it didn't make a difference, since no one recognized Canada anyways. This seemed to comfort Alfred…

Cuba's face turned red in response to Canada's silence. "BASTARD!!" he yelled.

In his fury, Cuba grabbed the front of Canada's shirt and ripped open the top half, popping the buttons, and stabbed the red tip of his cigar into the nape of Canada's neck.

The mix of surprise and pain caused Canada to cry out.

Cuba's mood seem to barely improve.

"At least now I know you are human" He spat.

Cuba stood up, and threw his cigar to the floor, stepping it out with his black boot. He grabbed Canada and brought him back to the cellar, making no attempt to carefully direct him down the stairs.

"Perhaps you are tired, and cannot remember so well. I will let you rest. And tomorrow, we try again."

Matthew barely stumbled into the room, when the door slammed him forward from behind, and he collapsed in a pathetic heap on the floor.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

A/N: ……..this chapter totally wasn't boring. –DARES YOU TO ARGUE-

So this weekend I am traveling to Vancouver Canada. (YAY?!!!) As a result, I won't be able to update this story for the next couple of days. Buuuuuuuut

NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE PLEASANT :)

And by pleasant..

I mean socially awkward in so many ways. OHMAN.

Look forward to it.


	3. brown down clown frown

**WARNING**

Violent sexual themes

**DISCLAIMER**

I'm too poor to own anything

**A/N:** So yes. Vancouver was amazing. And yes. It rained the whole time. (sob sob) Sorry to keep you ladies and fan boys waiting.

SEXY THANKS: to bombayxprodigy for editing skillllzz

Just as a side note, today my mom told me she bought a fireplace for my room. …. I'm still having trouble comprehending HOW THE HELL THAT WORKS….

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Quiet laughter trickled from the darkness, the same laughter Canada thought he had imagined before.

It was neither pleasant nor comforting.

He held his breath as he listened to the noise, trying to distinguish which corner of the room it was coming from. But the stone walls echoed the disturbance from every corner.

The laugh died down, and was replaced by words,

"A visitor? Or…" The voice was haunted, similar to the empty clang of a church bell. Like a deep voiced man who spoke with a high pitch. "A new friend?"

Canada's eyes widened as he felt the man whisper directly in his ear. But… when did he get so close? Matthew hadn't heard any movement from the room, and only a moment ago the voice was distant.

"My guest must be hungry…"

"W-who are you?" Canada asked.

"Me?" The man paused.

Without warning two large hands yanked Canada from the ground, clasping him from behind. Canada could feel the man's broad chest pressed uncomfortably against his back, his body towering over Canada's own. He rested his chin at the base of the blonde's neck, nuzzling sickeningly close.

"Your friend." he answered.

Matthew grimaced as the man ran his tongue up the side of his cheek. "Tasty…" The man whispered in Canada's ear, his accent harsher than his rough hands. Gears began to turn in Canada's head, _this is…_

"R-Russia..?."

The hands around Canada's stomach tightened and the man hissed in his ear. "Oh… my new friend is perhaps an old friend?"

"N-no." Canada stuttered.

The man chuckled deeply, "Let's eat little friend. You've made me hungry."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Canada sat hugging his knees, his back pressed against a cold wall. The two sat opposite a high slim window that cast a night glow over them. Canada's eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, and he could make out the intimidating figure of Russia sitting in front of him.

Russia's eyes never wavered from Canada's face.

The hunger clawing at Matthew's stomach didn't allow him to pass up the food he was offered. It wasn't much, as the two were in prison, but the small plate of cold rice became the highlight of the day, and within a few bites, he consumed it all.

When Canada was finished, he put the plate down, and glanced over to Russia. The man was still watching him, and hadn't moved. Canada noticed Russia had no plate of his own.

Realization dawned "Oh, I'm s-sorry!" Canada gasped, "I didn't even think to ask if you had any!" The damage was done. For all he knew, the small plate of rice was for the two of them to share. What if that was their only food for the day, or worse, the week?

He was beginning to feel less like a soldier, and more like the pathetic country most assumed he was.

"No no." Russia smiled, "It's all yours."

"I thought you were hungry?"

"I am."

Though Russia remained still, Canada felt as if the man grew larger.

"Russia"-

"Ivan."

"Ivan…" Matthew repeated. "I don't know what your intentions are bu"-

Russia rushed forward pressing his hand against the wall, leaving his head uncomfortably close to Canada's. Feeling trapped, Canada felt Russia's warm tongue graze his bottom lip.

"W-What?" Canada choked on his own voice.

The tip of Russia's tongue disappeared back into his mouth, and the glint of a smirk replaced it. "A grain of rice was on your lip".

The man leaned back and stood from his place on the floor, his upper body leaving the dim light. Canada slid down the wall, and watched the large man's feet nervously. Once again, Russia wasn't moving.

"It tasted good."

"The rice?" Canada questioned meekly.

Russia didn't acknowledge the question. "You know, I've been down here for so long. I've become lonely." For a large man, Russia's footsteps were oddly light. "It is such a treat for me, to have a friend…" His body slowly disappeared into the shadows.

"I-Ivan?" Canada asked the darkness.

Not a sound.

Matthew began to gently gnaw the inside of his cheek. _Don't let his mind games get to you,_ he thought,_ you are supposed to be thick skinned, you are supposed to be America…_

The cold sound of metal scraping lightly against the stone floor caught Canada's attention.

"Would you like to play a game?" Russia's body crept back into the moonlight, his face heavily shadowed. His shirt was absent and Canada could see the sick purple tinge to his thick body. Though Russia didn't appear very muscular, he looked hard and heavy.

Canada bit hard on the soft cheek between his teeth.

"It's called Truths." Russia brought the long bar he had been dragging across the floor to the light. Though metallic, it didn't shine due to rust, and the faucet attached to one end formed a handle that Russia held firmly. "The rules are simple… don't lie."

Russia walked up to Canada's small figure and looked down on him again, a fake smile plastered to his face. "First question…what is your name?"

Canada began to shake, and clenched his fists to control his body.

"A-Alfred" he jutted out, looking to the ground.

A cold silence.

A mock expression of disappointment dawned Russia's face.

"Oh, but Canada, you've already lost."

Matthew felt as if a lump of led had fallen into his stomach.

Russia dropped to his knees and reached a hand out to Canada. Matthew shut his eyes and turned his head, but instead of his throat, Russia grabbed a fistful of shirt collar, and pulled Canada forward until their foreheads met. Matthew was forced to look into the dull violet eyes of Russia.

"What are you going to do?" Canada whispered.

"I'm going to eat you" Russia responded, no humor to his voice.

His mouth crushed down onto Canada, who was too shocked to reject the advance. He forced Canada's mouth open painfully wide, his tongue assaulting the back of Canada's throat. When he was done the invasion, he began sucking painfully on the smaller boy's tongue.

Meanwhile, Russia's hands found there way to Canada's lower back where they began pushing up the shirt, caressing along the sides of the slender body. When the shirt had been pushed up high enough, Russia parted from Canada's mouth to force the material over the boy's head, leaving it tangled around his hands.

"S-Stop!" Canada pleaded. His mouth felt raw and disgusting,

With one hand, Russia pinned Canada's tied hands above his head to the wall, and with the other, forced Canada onto his lap, scooting forward so there was minimal space between them. Canada's legs straddled Russia's bent knees.

"New question. Why are you pretending to be your brother?" Though his tone seemed uninterested, Russia tightened his grip on Canada's hands, rekindling the pain from his burn marks. Matthew gasped, but clamped his mouth shut saying nothing.

"I see…" Russia said disappointed. He lowered his head to Canada's chest, and bit hard on the left nipple. Matthew bit down on his own lip, feeling his eyes water,

Russia sucked the pink flesh, flicking with his tongue until the nipple grew hard, then proceeded to the other. Every time Canada's body jerked away, Russia pushed harder on Canada's hands, grinding them into the stone.

Finally Ivan pulled his head away and licked at his bottom lip as if savoring the flavor.

"Last question…Do you want to become one with Russia?" Though the question was a cruel joke, there was a sick undertone of hope.

"I…I…" Canada couldn't answer.

"Hmm?" Russia urged.

"P-please…stop this…"

He sighed. "Once again little friend, you have failed to answer my question. The game is over". Russia relieved his hold of Canada's hands, and they fell heavily to his lap. He lifted Canada carefully up, and put him back on the cold floor. Matthews's eyelids were heavy, and he found himself on the verge of consciousness. Half in a nightmare and half in blissful sleep. Why did his body crave sleep whenever he found himself in the least desirable situations?

_Am I nothing more than an object?_ Russia's cold fingers left a burning trail over Canada's body, and the taste of Russia's mouth still lingered in Canada's throat. The physical torment was nothing compared to the helplessness Canada felt.

Ivan grabbed the metal faucet he had left on the floor and used it as leverage to stand himself up. From Matthews's blurred vision, it appeared Ivan was cradling the metal pole. "I'm sorry…" He thought he heard him mumble to the faucet. "But our friend is tired tonight… you can play with us next time…"

_I think I preferred Cuba… _Canada said bitterly to himself.

* * *

A/C: WOW. That only took like… a month ://///

YES I AM VERY DISPLEASED WITH MYSELF.

When I started this fanfiction I was so into the idea, but after the first two chapters, I suddenly inspired myself to draw …AND DRAW I DID…FOR AN ENTIRE MONTH… AND IT WAS HOT.

**In regards to my comment before the story**: my fireplace came. It's electric. It's giant. And it's white. I love it.

I'm thinking of naming him Hoeinhiem of Light…

Any other ideas?


End file.
